


To Worship Her

by tatterwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Mild Gore, OFC-insert, One Shot, Reader-Insert, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:51:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3566948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Imagine Castiel kissing the old hunting scars on your legs before making love to you, all the while he tells you how beautiful you are." One shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Worship Her

**Author's Note:**

  * For [needynovak.tumblr.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=needynovak.tumblr.com).



You weren't the prettiest woman.

You weren't even the prettiest hunter. That much had always been clear to you.

But ever since your first run-in with the Winchesters' angelic friend, Castiel, it'd become painfully obvious knowledge.

Numerous hunts had left you scarred. Your skin was flecked with old white and silver-y marks. Some were thin and flat, while others were raised and ugly. You always did your best to hide them the best you could. Long shirts, high-necked sweaters and jackets, pants and boots.

But there were a few you were always harder to hide. There was the one that made your upper lip dimple slightly, the pink separated by a thin slash of white. Another ran through your right brow. The other ran a line across half of your throat, always slightly pink in color.

They were badges of making it out of tough situations, bad hunts, and deadly circumstances with your life. Scars were simply a part of the life you lead.

But there were times when confidence left you and you felt bereft and ugly and embarrassed.

The eyes of new acquaintances were one of those times.

When the Winchesters had introduced you to the infamous Castiel, his reputation had preceded him. Dean and Sam had talked a fair bit about the ex-angel. You were a little excited to meet him in addition to being very nervous.

When Castiel had appeared, your mind had gone blank.

The descriptions hadn't done him justice. He was tall, not as tall as Dean, but still taller than you. His jaw was square and shadowed. His lips were wide and a pale pink color. Eyes bluer than a summer sky were set beneath dark brows. His hair was dark, messily tousled in a manner that was reminiscent of bedhead. Even beneath his coat, jacket, and suit, you were able to discern that his body was beyond good-looking.

But then, he'd looked at you. Really looked at you.

And he'd stared, eyes slowly narrowing before widening infinitesimally.

His head had tilted slightly. The boys had interrupted before he'd been able to say anything about your scars.

That was always the first thing people remarked upon.

" _Oh, sweetie, what happened?_ "

" _What a shame to ruin a face like that._ "

" _Bet you don't have to worry about men in bars much._ "

" _Who Frankenstien-ed you?_ "

You'd heard it all and had no desire for any repeat performances.

Yet, for however much you expected that all, you were always felt ashamed and embarrassed. Really, you should have grown a tougher skin by then.

But it still hurt when Castiel seemed unable to look away from your scars. You'd had to excuse yourself at that point, just to get away.

 

Months passed.

Occasionally, Castiel worked with the Winchesters on a hunt. He'd always greet you with a curt nod and keep his distance. You were used to that too. Scars like your's creeped people out.

It seemed like angels were no different.

But for all your work, you couldn't shake your feelings for Castiel.

He was handsome, always looking like he'd just flown through a windstorm with his messy hair and shadowed jaw. His tie flipped around and his jacket rumpled.

He was steadfast, incredibly intelligent and bold. His social skills were a little lack-luster, but, then, so were your's.

He was one hell of a fighter. Nothing could stand in his path and live if he decided that it was going to die. But he also had his moments of gentleness and adorable awkwardness.

Sometimes, he seemed at a loss for words even when he had so many. He wondered at the smallest things; rainstorms and blooming roses with wicked thorns and nests of bees. He was a conundrum and you were entranced by him.

It was incredibly infuriating and frustrating. Not him, but yourself.

You wished you could shove the feelings down, get rid of them. But no matter what you did or how long Castiel stayed away, they always lurked just beneath the surface of your mind.

Whenever Castiel made an appearance; in conversation, during hunts...Those feelings would erupt back to life and leave you reeling.

That day, you and the Winchesters were working a case up North.

Omens of demonic activity had been practically red-hot. When you'd arrived in the town, everything had seemed pretty normal, though. It'd only been when the boys had visited the local bar that things had gone south.

Amidst a fight with the bar's patrons, all possessed by high-class demons, Dean had managed to dial your cell number. You'd been out canvassing the rest of the town. Dean had only gotten the code-word for big trouble out before the call died.

You were alone, without back-up in a demon-infested town.

It left only one option.

It'd taken you three minutes to calm yourself enough to pray without sounding like an idiot.

 

 

' _Castiel, it's Y/N. Sam and Dean are in trouble. I, ah, I really, really need your help. I don't know if you can hear me. But, I need you. I need you to help me help them._ '

Castiel heard Y/N's fervent prayer in Heaven.

He was in the midst of a conversation with one of his many siblings. The other angel was quiet talkative; rambling about something or other. Castiel had long since quit listening.

But at the first tentative brush of Y/N's thoughts against his consciousness, Castiel had snapped to attention.

Her voice was just as soft and hushed as it was when she spoke verbally.

He could almost see her; eyes closed and lips pursed as she concentrated.

Castiel excused himself abruptly and flew earth-ward. When he appeared in the location he'd pinned Y/N to be at, he was surprised at her position.

Sam, when he prayed, often did so as he sat in a chair. The younger Winchester would lean over with hands pressed together and eyes shut tight. Dean prayed loosely, almost irreverently, like he was using a cellular phone or radio device. But Y/N...

The woman was knelt on the floor at the foot of the bed. Her elbows were propped upon the edge of the mattress and her fingers were clasped together. Her bright eyes were shut, long lashes touching her cheeks. Her lips moved silently. Her head was tilted up toward the heavens.

At the sight of her on her knees, face raised in supplication, Castiel was struck with lustful, lewd thoughts.

Much of the time he was in Y/N's presence, it was thus.

She was beautiful, her body honed to a hunter's lethal form. Her limbs were lithe and strong. Yet, she was seemingly soft in places. Castiel could not discern much, as she wore much more clothing than Dean or Sam did. And he'd never seen her in less. But he'd wanted to.

There was some...Baser instinct at play when he thought of Y/N unclothed. An instinct that made his vessel burn with heat and ache and harden. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but it was incredibly distracting.

She was very smart. Castiel had glimpsed into her mind on few occasions to glean information and had found it to be an interesting space. Her thoughts moved quickly and orderly. She processed information very swiftly, something that was invaluable during hunts. She'd aided the Winchesters and himself during situations of import where, without her, they surely would have failed.

Castiel admired Y/N.

He cared for her.

And it was in a different way than he cared for Dean or Sam. Great feelings of emotion swelled within his chest when he thought of her.

Warmth and heat, compassion and caring, empathy, the great need to protect. He was at a loss for what to name the jumble of feelings. He'd never felt anything like it in all his time on earth or in Heaven, in a vessel or as his celestial self. It was both unsettling and awe-inspiring.

Castiel studied Y/N for a moment longer before approaching her still form.

He laid his hand gently upon her shoulder, taking in the feel of the smooth curve beneath his palm and the warmth of her skin through her clothing.

She startled, hand rising with blade at the ready. Her eyes flew wide as she slipped from beneath his touch and crouched in a defensive stance. The grace and ease in which she moved impressed Castiel. It also clouded his mind with other thoughts.

He shook those away. There were more pressing matters at hand.

Like why Y/N had called him there in the first place.

"You prayed to me."

Y/N's cheeks flushed at his words. Her skin pinkening ever-so-slightly.

Castiel felt his body beginning to react, warmth easing through his vessel's veins.

She nodded.

"Dean called me in the middle of a fight. The town's plagued with demons. We traced a bunch of omens here. I followed his phone signal to a local bar when his phone went dead and he wouldn't answer it. I'm afraid he and Sam are in big trouble, Cas."

It sounded like the truth.

The Winchesters always had been oddly magnetized towards trouble and dangerous situations. Castiel was not surprised that demons were involved this time. He'd heard rumors that there were forces of the hell-spawn in search of the brothers once more. He'd thought that they would be smart enough to 'lay low' until it was safer.

Apparently, Castiel had been wrong.

He disliked being wrong.

Another part of Castiel was stuck on the way the shortened version of his name sounded on Y/N's lips.

Her mouth moved, lips forming words with ease. He briefly wondered how they would feel moving against his skin as she said his name. All those thoughts and more proved to be incredibly distracting. And even though his own mind was a vast expanse, he found it difficult to reroute his attention to the task at hand.

 

 

The bar was a ramshackle thing.

The outside paneling was worn and weathered; wood chipped and splintering at the corners. Paint peeled off the antique sign that hung over the doorway.

A dozen vehicles were parked in the lot, unusual for a late weekday afternoon. Neon signs hung crookedly in the windows, proclaiming the choice beer and alcohol.

Castiel cased the place in his way. The angel was at your side one minute, and gone the next. Then, with a soft flutter of his jacket, he returned.

His hair stuck up a little on one side. His bold blue eyes studied the building with solid intensity.

"There a dozen demons inside the bar. Most are posted at the windows and doors. A few are...questioning Dean and Sam. It is imperative that we work quickly to incapacitate the demons before they do any more harm."

You swallowed and pulled your gun from your thigh holster.

The clip held bullets you'd etched, yourself, with devil's traps. They would effectively stop any demon in its tracks and prevent it from smoking out, too. You checked the clip before picking up your other gun and checking it as well. When you were satisfied, you pushed your hair back and took a deep breath.

"Windows and doors, you said?" You took stock of the number of both.

"Correct."

"All right. I'll pop as many as I can. You can follow up behind me, bagging as I tag."

Castiel's brows furrowed at your choice of words. He must have caught your meaning because he nodded. His hand encircled your elbow.

"On your word, Y/N."

As always, your name on Castiel's lips had your brain fogging a little. His mouth formed the syllables so carefully, low voice unable to be duplicated.

You shook your head hard and braced yourself.

"Ready."

The ground lurched beneath your feet and then the clouded sunlight gave way to dim amber light.

Wood flooring creaked beneath your boots.

With the barest glance to ground yourself, your fingers squeezed the triggers.

Sam and Dean ducked their heads, working to free each other from their restraints. Demons flung themselves at you.

You could hear Cas working through the ones you'd already plugged. His angel blade slipped through flesh and destroyed the demons within their vessels. You smothered your pity for the humans they'd possessed and squeezed out another round.

There was a loud cry behind you, muffled by what sounded like a gag. You spun, one gun emptied.

Cas was grappling with two demons. His coat billowed as he tried to smite one as another caught up his fallen weapon. Fear spiked through your chest; cold and sharp.

_Crack_

Your bullet smashed through the demon who'd been about to stab Cas with his angel blade. White light flared and the second demon fell. Cas turned, retrieving his fallen blade and glancing around.

Blue eyes went wide.

His hand lifted as if to throw his weapon.

Pain erupted in your side.

You cried out, gun ducking beneath your arm. The barrel met soft flesh and you fired.

Castiel was suddenly there, finishing off your assailant. The doors to the back of the bar opened and five more demons flooded into the room. You squeezed off your last three bullets and tossed your guns to the side.

Castiel launched himself into the fray; blade flashing and jaw pulled tight. You began working on Dean's restraints. The cuffs were cold against your hands as you jimmied a hairpin around. With a click, Dean was free.

He joined Cas in the fight that had come dangerously close to out-manning the four of you. Blood trickled down your side. The wound burned fiercely. Your vision clouded a little and you shook your head sharply to clear it.

Finally, you managed to free Sam's cuffs. When you tried to rise to help them fight, you had to bite back the cry of pain that filled your mouth. You slumped beside the bar's counter; one hand pressed firmly over the wound as you tried not to pass out.

The wooden floor was roughened beneath your palm. Grains of dirt and sand rolled against your skin. The bar's base had chips in its surface. Splinters caught at strands of your hair. Grunts and muffled growls sounded; the noises of fists meeting flesh, of skin giving to metal. Death-cries rang out.

It was getting cold. Tiny shivers made your body tremble. You pressed your hand harder against the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Maintaining steady breathing was hard when, with every beat of your heart, you could feel blood pumping between your fingers.

An artery had been nicked somewhere.

Suddenly, all noise of battle ceased. Voices sounded, far away and then closer.

You must've closed your eyes at some point because it was dark. Something took hold of your lapels and shook.

Your head lolled slightly as you tried to open your eyes.

"Y/N, hey, Y/N." Dean's voice cracked a little. "Hey, c'mon. Open your eyes."

"Dean, move aside." There was Castiel. His voice had you relaxing further.

Castiel was there. And that meant you were safe.

A warm hand tenderly cupped the side of your face. Your cheek settled into a roughened palm as fingers traced your temples. Heat worked through your body like a gentle wildfire. It sought out all the damage done and knitted flesh back together.

With a gasp, you blinked open your eyes.

Dean and Sam made mirroring sounds of relief. The hand on your cheek lingered a moment longer before slipping away. Then, strong arms were wrapping around your body and lifting you.

You groaned.

"C'mon, I can walk by myself. I have two legs."

"Y/N, ten seconds ago, you were bleeding out on a bar-room floor. Humor me, all right?" Dean's voice came from just above your ear.

His arms cradled you easily to his chest. Warm breaths tickled the top of your head. The Impala's rear door opened with a muffled creak.

Dean settled you in the back seat before making sure you really were all right. You shooed him away with an irritated mutter.

If anything, you were embarrassed by the fact that Cas had seen you get taken down in a moment of blind stupidity.

Granted, you were just happy that you'd gotten the demon before it'd gotten at Cas.

 

 

Castiel was constantly surprised by humanity.

In the way they interacted with one another; their disagreements and petty fights, their inventions and ingenuity, their quiet brilliance and strong emotions. Just when he thought that he'd run out of things to marvel at, he was proven wrong.

Y/N had risked her life to prevent him from being harmed.

He hadn't been aware that one of the demons had gone for his angel blade when he dropped it. He'd been too wrapped up in attempting to smite the one at hand. It'd only been when he'd heard a body fall behind him and turned that he'd realized the gravity of the situation.

And when Y/N had defended him, she'd left herself open to attack.

Castiel had watched as the demon had plunged its hunting knife deep in her side. He'd watched as she'd muscled through the pain and debilitating wound to kill her assailant and free the Winchesters. She'd come so close to death. Too close for Castiel's liking.

Her skin had been cold when he'd healed her. She'd been pale, her pulse thready and breathing nigh silent. Fear had been real within his mind.

He cared for Y/N.

The thought of her no longer in the world was something that unsettled Castiel. He knew she would have ascended to Heaven, but, for some reason, he found himself unable to stand the thought.

It was odd.

No other human had ever affected him so. Then again, no other human had stirred so many feelings and reactions within Castiel ever before.

There was what he could only deem as lust. Both his vessel and himself reacted strongly to Y/N's form. She was strong and certainly beautiful. Castiel often found himself admiring her scars. The paler streaks and flecks marked her skin and drew his eyes in patterns over her body. They were a testament to her strength, tenacity, and courage. They were the marks of a survivor, a warrior.

Her eyes were entrancing; always alight with thought. Castiel liked to watch the way they'd flicker and flash with varying emotions. He liked her lips; the plump bow often giving him lewd thoughts. He liked to watch them form words, especially his name.

Castiel liked her.

Y/N had a brilliant soul that shone with a near-blinding brightness. She was breathtaking, within and without. He wanted to learn everything about her. Everything.

Yet, he was also...Reluctant to show any advances toward her.

Castiel didn't wish to intrude upon her or her relationships with either Dean or Sam. He knew that there was nothing of the sexual or romantic nature between any of them, but, still. Perhaps Y/N desired one of them.

Free will was tantamount and Castiel would not intrude upon her's.

But, Father, how his body ached and burned. His mind was constantly filled with thoughts, images of Y/N...

Castiel frowned at himself and tried to regain a semblance of self-control. Perhaps speaking with Dean would clear matters.

Castiel found himself wanting to thank Y/N for her interference and saving his life that day. Dean would probably know of a proper way for such a thing.

 

 

Since you first began hunting with the Winchesters, you'd been sleeping in separate rooms.

After sharing a bed with Sam once and ending up smooshed to one side of the mattress, you'd decided that two rooms was the way to go.

Besides, after hunts, you liked having your privacy.

After you'd finally managed to convince Dean that you really were okay, you'd tried to catch Castiel's eye to thank him for healing you. But the angel had seemed wrapped up in his thoughts; eyes studying a nowhere-place in empty space.

He did that a lot. It was something you found endearing, the way his eyes would narrow slightly and his brow would pucker like he was concentrating incredibly hard on something.

Once the boys had left, you'd undressed and mourned over another lost set of tops. The two articles of clothing were beyond saving; ripped in the sides and drenched with more blood than could be washed out. You'd managed to rinse the blood our of your bra, jeans, and underwear, though and had hung them over the hotel's towel racks to dry.

In the shower, you'd washed all traces of injury away. The water ran red, then pink, before running down the drain clear. Once clean, you dried off and dressed in your pajamas; a set of old sweatpants with some college's name emblazoned down the leg and a worn t-shirt with more than a few holes in the hem. The thing was so big it bagged, sometimes sliding off your shoulders.

You stepped from the bathroom, a cloud of warm steam following you.

Upon your entrance into the hotel's main room, you were confronted with the sight of Castiel perched on the end of your bed.

You jumped slightly, hand fluttering over your heart to steady its suddenly-pounding rhythm.

The angel looked up at your arrival. Blue eyes ran over you from head to toe and back. Slowly, he stood.

You cleared your throat and tried to hide what skin that was bared by your t-shirt. It bagged around one shoulder, slipping down to expose your upper arm. You hastily tugged it back up and hunched your shoulders. You had zero desire for Cas to actually see how you looked without three layers of clothing on. You were riddled with scars; more than most hunters bore. You were far from perfect or even pretty.

"Um, hi, Cas. Did you need something?"

Castiel's eyes had been rapt on the simple flash of skin he'd gotten when your sleeve had slid down. His throat worked and...had that been...desire? He took a step closer, coat swishing.

"I am sorry you were wounded, Y/N. I should not have been so careless."

You frowned.

"Cas, it wasn't your fault. We were out-numbered. I missed a few demons and you almost paid the price for it. If anything, I'm the one who should be sorry-"

"You nearly died, Y/N. And because you were protecting me." Castiel's eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

"But I didn't." You asserted. Heat crept up your neck and teased your cheeks. "Er, thanks for healing me, by the way."

You'd glanced down to keep your thoughts from scattering.

Castiel's shoes suddenly entered the top of your vision. Startled, you looked up. He was less than a foot away, now. His head canted ever-so-slightly as he studied you.

"I should be thanking you." His voice had dropped an octave, something that just should not have been possible.

He stepped even closer, leaving you with only one way to go. You stepped back. He stepped forward. This continued until your back met the wall. Castiel didn't stop coming until his chest brushed your's through the thin material of your shirt.

 _Holy Lord_.

Up this close, his eyes shone with more shades of blue than you'd ever thought possible. His lips were parted, plush and pink and slightly chapped. His hair was mussed, looking for all the world like he'd just been well-pleasured. And _God_ , the way he smelled, like a rainstorm and smoke and something that was just uniquely... _Castiel_.

And he just stood there, eyes roving over your face as each of your breaths made your chest press against his. Your once-repressed desire skyrocketed to all new proportions.

"Um, Cas." You managed to squeak out. "What're you doing?"

His head tilted to the right a little.

"Dean has informed me that one shows enormous amounts of gratitude with intimacy. I'm attempting to gauge whether or not you'd be a willing recipient to such things."

Even with Cas' unusual phrasing, you got the gist of what he was implying.

You wanted to march over to Dean's room and punch him. Or hug him. Maybe both.

Heat burned its way through your body as you tried to clear your head.

"Cas, I think Dean's been watching too much porn again. A simple ' _thank-you_ ' works just fine." Your voice hitched on the words when he leaned a little closer.

"E-especially when you don't l-like me that way or anything."

The angel drew back at that, brow furrowing and lips dipping into a frown.

"I like you very much, Y/N. I have no spite or animosity for you."

You shook your head.

"No, that's not what I meant. Sex- ah, intimacy- that should be between to people who both care for each other a lot. And who both consent. And, and...Well, not as a thank-you or something."

"I wouldn't be doing it simply out of gratitude, Y/N." Cas spoke dryly.

"What?" Your mind seemed to have snarled up on itself.

One of Castiel's hands rose. In a mirror of his healing touch earlier, his palm cupped your cheek as his fingers carded through your damp hair.

"I do care for you, Y/N. Perhaps more than I should. I have...feelings, thoughts for you that I have never before experienced." His thumb lightly traced over the top of your cheek.

_Holy shit._

Was this actually happening?

Was Cas actually saying what you thought he was saying?

Surely not. It was impossible.

He was an angel, a warrior for God and you were...Well, you were _you_. You swallowed sharply and laughed breathily.

"Cas, I'm flattered, really, but-"

His brows drew down.

"You do not feel the same way." He sounded... _hurt_.

"No! No, Cas. I like you, too. Too much. But I'm not- You deserve someone more than everything I am, you know? Someone beautiful and who isn't all scarred and ugly. Someone pretty who won't put you in harm's way, you know?"

There was a beat of silence in which the only sounds were of your own breathing and his. Then, he growled low in throat, the noise making your head whip up.

Suddenly, he was pressing even closer. His body crowded your's; hands flattening against the wall beside your head. His breath tickled your cheeks. His eyes glinted in the way he usually reserved for fighting; steely and full of fire.

"How could you say those things about yourself." His tone was flat and tempered with anger.

You shivered, gulping.

"I-I just...It's the truth."

"Y/N, you're one of the most beautiful beings I've ever encountered in my time on earth. You are courageous, strong, resilient, and kind."

Castiel leaned close, mouth coming to rest inches from your ear. His breath warmed the sensitive skin there.

"Do you have any idea of the things you make me feel?"

"I don't know what you mean-"

With a surge, Castiel's body rolled against your own. His hips pushed above the waist of your sweatpants. He undeniably aroused, there was no mistaking that solid bulge. You gasped loudly, hands flying to clutch at the lapels of his jacket.

"Whenever I'm around you, my mind becomes consumed with carnal thoughts. To hear you say that you are not attractive is an egregious error. You've driven me to self-pleasure, Y/N."

 _Holy Christ_.

You moaned aloud at that.

The mental image of Castiel somewhere, alone, with his cock in his own hand, mind filled with thoughts of you had your body coming alive.

" _Cas-_ "

But he kept talking, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

"You don't know how many times I was forced to seek solitude after being in your presence. You don't know many times I wondered just how soft your skin was or what your lips tasted like."

He licked his own lips then, the tip of his tongue just teasing your skin.

"You don't know how I've wondered what you'd look like overcome with pleasure."

You gasped out a shocked laugh.

"Cas, where the hell did you learn to talk like that?" Your own voice sounded ridiculously breathy.

He seemingly ignored your question, nose skimming along the line of your jaw so, so slowly.

"And I've wondered if you harbored the same thought about me. I've wondered if you would have me." Cas pulled back, mouth only a breath away from your's.

Abruptly, he looked vulnerable. His eyes widening slightly, the blue becoming liquid that swirled with emotion. You could read his worry there, his trepidation over whether or not his feelings would be reciprocated.

That one look grounded you.

This was Castiel; angel of the Lord, a warrior of Biblical proportions who fought with the wrath of Heaven. He was glory and fury and chaos untamed, leashed inside an unfairly attractive vessel. And he was worried about whether or not you found him suitably worthy of your attention.

You wanted to both cry and laugh.

You settled for leaning forward and touching your lips to his. It was like lighting the fuse of a stick of dynamite.

For one second, Castiel remained utterly still, seemingly shocked by your boldness. His eyes remained open when your's fluttered shut. Then, his hands moved away from the wall and tangled in your hair. His lips parted, breath mingling with your's.

Apparently, he needed no coaching in this area, either.

He kissed like he'd talked; slow and methodical and with an air of sinful hunger that left you clinging to his front breathlessly. And that was before his tongue slipped between your teeth and made a pass at your own.

In a matter of minutes, he reduced you to a gasping mess of jangling nerves and aching need. Your breaths mingled, passing between open mouths as lips pressed together and retreated before returning for more.

Your fingers gradually loosened their death-grip on the lapels of his coat. The material gave beneath your hands as you ran them up, up over his torso. His chest expanded with a deep breath beneath your touch. His hair was every bit as soft as it looked when you carded your fingers through it.

When he caught your lower lip between his teeth and gave it a suck, you tugged at his hair. The motion earned you a muffled sound of pleasure that had your toes curling.

Cas must've had enough of the little touches because suddenly, you were bouncing atop the bed's mattress.

 

 

Y/N squeaked in surprise, her small hands flattening over his chest.

Castiel had removed his coat and suit jacket, impatient to be closer to her in any way he could get. The heat from her seeped through the material of his clothing and warmed his skin to all-new proportions. He wanted, needed, to be closer to her. To feel every inch of her skin with his hands, his lips, against his skin.

He bent, capturing her lips in another kiss. She tasted like mint and sweet cherries, her tongue sliding against his and making his head reel. Her body beneath his rippled when he rocked his hips between her thighs. She was so warm there, so soft that it was all he could do to keep his mind on the task at hand.

Y/N lacked her usual confidence when it came to her body and its scars. Castiel was making it his mission that night to worship every inch of her; to show her that she was no less than exquisite in his eyes.

Inch by inch, he drew the hem of her shirt higher and higher. Y/N grew impatient, though, and grasped the bottom to yank it over her head. When she tried to guide his hands to her breasts, he resisted. He pressed her arms over her head resolutely and placed a gentle kiss to the corner of her lips.

So, so slowly, Castiel tasted every bit of skin he could reach.

He licked along the scar that marked her throat, pressed open-mouthed kisses over the slender white flecks that peppered her shoulders. He laved his tongue over the puckered scars of a bullet wound. He lapped at the raised stripe on her arm. He made sure to give every little scar, scrape, and mark a kiss or touch.

She undulated beneath him, body arching up to his hands and mouth as she murmured half-formed pleas for more.

Castiel wanted to oblige, but this task came first.

When he tugged her pants down her long legs, his mind became a hot tangle of need and lust, nearly erasing his plans.

Want punched hard and low. Castiel felt himself harden to nigh unbearable proportions. He groaned, leaning his head against her knee as he fought to regain some semblance of clarity. Y/N rolled her hips, fingers scraping at the blankets.

Castiel withdrew, hands encircling her ankles and smoothing up her calves. He began the process of kissing every mark again. Her legs shook minutely the higher he traveled.

He couldn't fault her. His own body was on edge, clamoring for a taste of her, the simple feel of her. With every kiss, lick, touch, and caress, his hunger mounted.

He kissed up her inner thighs. The skin there was so incredibly soft, he couldn't help but nip at it before soothing the sting away with his tongue. Y/N's thighs trembled beneath his hands as he hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and leaned in close.

 

 

Castiel was driving you insane.

Naked beneath him, he'd showered every bit of your body with sweet, gentle kisses and touches. But, now, you were beyond the point of sweet or gentle. You wanted, needed, more.

Your body ached for something, _anything_.

His eyes flipped up just then, as he settled one of your legs over his shoulders and settled between your thighs. Those blue irises gleamed with wicked intent and blatant hunger. He wasn't going to-

Oh. Yes, he was.

His mouth dipped, lips parting over your drenched sex. At the first touch of his tongue, your hips bucked into his hands as you cried out. He was merciless, learning every inch of you and taking his sweet, sweet time while doing so.

In a matter of minutes, Castiel had you keening, one hand cranked into a fist in the sheets while your fingers tangled in his hair. He sucked and licked at your clit while his fingers set up a rhythm that had you seeing stars.

"Cas, _Cas, please_ ," You moaned. "Just a little more, _please_."

His lashes lifted and he gave you a quizzical look that was so at odds with what he was currently doing that it made your head spin.

His fingers crooked, finding the spot inside of you that had your hips lifting off of the mattress.

The sight of him, pink tongue flicking at the top of your sex while the tendons in his wrist rippled and his eyes gleamed up at you had you flying from the edge.

Cas didn't pull away even after you'd receded from your high. You pushed his head away, achingly sensitive.

He growled and licked at his lips like you'd just stolen his favorite treat. The reaction had you smothering a whimper. You pressed your thighs together, hunger quickly mounting again.

But Cas was overdressed for the occasion.

You rose, pulling at the buttons on the front of his shirt. He shooed your hands away and, with a wave of his own hand, made his remaining clothing vanish. You were rendered momentarily speechless at the sight of a very naked Castiel in your bed.

A very naked, very aroused Castiel at that.

 _Goddammit_ , he was fucking perfect. It just wasn't fair.

Cas seemed to have zero inclination to take it slow now. His hands grabbed at your hips and jerked your body towards his. You gasped as he came over you, knees bracing against your inner thighs as he ran the head of his cock along your entrance.

And then, with a series of measured thrusts, he was inside. Your head kicked back at the simple pleasure of having him settled inside of you. He felt amazing; stretching and filling and hitting every spot that made your body sing.

And that was before he started to _move_.

One of his arms looped behind your head, the nape of your neck settling into the crook of his elbow. His hips rocked between your thighs in a wicked, rolling motion. He tugged you up, against his chest when his rhythm began to quicken. Hot breaths puffed against your cheek, ear, and throat as he held you tight and surged a little harder, a little faster.

"Y/N," Cas groaned against your lips.

That was all it took for you to careen off the edge again. And this time, you dragged Castiel with you.

With a hoarse shout of your name, his hips bucked and his body shuddered. His arms squeezed so tight, that for a moment, your breath stopped.

The two of you slowly faded earth-ward from the heights. Castiel cradled you against his chest as he pulled the blankets over your bodies.

His hair was a wild mess, dark strands sticking up chaotically. The tops of his cheeks were flushed and his lips were swollen and reddened from your kisses. His hands traced up and down your spine as he gazed down at you with a pleasure-dazed stare.

"What?" You asked, blushing beneath his eyes.

His lips quirked up in a rare smile. The sight sent your heart thumping irregularly.

"You have no idea how long I have been imagining this moment."

You laughed a little, still disbelieving.

"I hope I lived up to it all."

This time, he grinned with a wicked edge.

"Oh, much, _much_ more than ' _lived up to_ ' I'd say, Y/N."


End file.
